


Consent

by allthegayotps



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Emotional Sex, F/M, Graphic Description, Rape, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthegayotps/pseuds/allthegayotps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is and has always been small, but she hasn't always been afraid of physical contact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consent

Long, black hair waved to cover her face from his view, a slight pain echoing through her hand as she tried to blend into the chair. No such chances in Lawrence, Kansas. As she'd heard it, there hadn't been new arrivals in the small town for two years. Castiel buried her face further into her palm, sighing when the teacher opted out of calling her out to introduce herself as many other teachers had done today. 

She'd already learned about vectors... last year. The thought sent despair through her veins, fearing the possibility of being the bookish outcast in such a small town. The bullying here would, without a doubt, follow follow her home. She wiped her empty palm on her light grey skinny jeans, hoping no one was going to scoff from two seats over and say she had shit taste in music like three periods about. 

A tall girl came through the door, looking flustered and confused. She had just grown within a few months, shown by the slight off-balance moves he made as he inched closer toward the double table Castiel occupied as well as the half-inch of ankle shown underneath denim. "Miss Winchester, you are never late." The teacher is looking at her expectantly, glasses low on the slightly crooked nose. "I'm sure it will never happen again."

"N-no, sir. I'm sorry." She was dropping her books onto the surface of the desk before Castiel could comprehend that she was going to sit next to her. A crinkling brought her eyes to the back of her jacket, elegant script - not unlike her own - catching her eyes. Damn, Gabriel. She slyly took the paper, eyeing the words.

"Call me," and his ten-digit number. No doubt, that was the reason the poor girl was late to class. She shoved the paper into her pocket, flipping her hair to block herself from the brown-eyed girl pulling the medium length hair in a smart bun. The rest of the period was fairly boring, Castiel answering question after question correctly when the teacher suspected she was not paying attention (she wasn't).

When the bell rang, announcing the end of Castiel's punishment for being a girl, the tall girl turned to the right, nodding to her shirt. "Where did you get that one? I can't find it in our local Hot Topic." Castiel looked down, though she knew which shirt it was she was wearing. She'd carefully assembled the outfit for weeks, feeling her closet's decreasing size since ridding herself of every skirt she could find. 

"I made it." The girl looked up curiously, waiting for an explanation. "There was an exclusive behind-the-scenes with the band and they let me take their hand prints." Castiel turned, exposing the colored palms across the back of the shirt. "So, I made a shirt with their logo and their signatures under their hands."

Her toothy grin was warm, contagious and Castiel found her lips pulling up minutely for the first time in two months. "Awesome."

*********

Sam was the first of the two friends Castiel made at Lawrence High School in the few short months she'd been there. Her mother didn't comment at the obviously lack of contact with any male outside of her family, though she was probably glad at her only daughter's aversion to men (and boys, really). Charlie was in the same boat, though for a different reason. She eyed other girls in the hallway, talking about mouth-watering figures and using corny pickup lines to greet some of the ones that would give her the time of day. 

Really, the girl was just a redheaded ball of fun, talking excitedly about new video games and - mostly to Castiel - begging for any help with her poor marks in English.

She handed the paper across to Charlie before the redhead could even ask, watching her kiss the paper lightly. "You are a saint."

"Actually, my name comes from the angel of Thursday," Castiel pointed out, pushing around her lunch a bit. "Mom insisted on naming _all_ of us after angels."

"Speaking of moms, mine wants you to come over for dinner." Sam plopped down next to her, tendrils of brown hair falling from her bun to rest on her flannel-clad shoulders. Whether or not Sam listened to Bring Me The Horizon like a true metal-head, she looked like she just stumbled out of a small, country barn.

"Dinner?" Castiel felt stupid repeating the word, knowing full well exactly what Sam had said. The implication was what scared Castiel the most. For the first time since living in Illinois, he would be spending time somewhere other than his own home or school. She rubbed her dampening palms on her skinny jeans, cursing herself for being so jittery about these things.

 _It was just a little incident, Castiel, pull yourself together._ A voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother broke through her worries, forcing her head to nod without permission. Damn it all.

"You don't have to. I know you don't like going places..." Sam blushed, looking away from Castiel at the comment. Though true, she realized that she wasn't fooling her friends with her reluctance to join them anywhere they wanted to go.

"No, I want to. Plus, my mom is going to be glad to get rid of me for a meal." Sam looked up hopefully, puppy-dog eyes hitting with full force before she had even asked for anything. 

"Glad enough to give you up for a whole night? It's game night and my mom wants to play Monopoly." Castiel nodded again, trying not to think too far into the fact that she going to be away from the security of her home, in a strange place _all night_.

"I'll ask, but I have a good idea that she'll be ecstatic to get me out." Sam pumped a fist into the air, bringing another rare grin to Castiel's thin face. In the face of spending more tan seven hours of daylight away from the locks at home, she was thinking that - maybe - as long as she always knew Sam was nearby, she would be okay.

"Mom is going to be cleaning all freaking week." Sam laughed a short, sarcastic sound that didn't last quite long enough for Castiel to memorize.

"Your mom never cleans up for me," Charlie almost sounded offended. Almost.

"It's because you never clean up for her." Sam grinned, shoulders swaying in laughter as she tapped out a message on her phone.

*********

Instead of Sam opening the narrow wooden door, Castiel was surprised by broad shoulders and dirty blonde hair. He was young, not much older than Sam, really. Castiel wrung her hands together, eyes shifting as she tried to stammer out a greeting "I- I- I'm- I mus-"

"Damn, you're tiny." His voice made her hands sweat and she began to back away, sure she walked up to the front door. But, Sam had specifically said the house with the "godawful" pink shutters was hers. "Sammy!" Again, the boom of his voice made sweat collect in her palms.

"Is it Castiel?" Sam rounded the corner, clad in her usual jeans and flannel, but padding around barefoot. Would she want Castiel to do the same? "C'mon, I want to show you my room before dinner." The boy that had yet to introduce himself held the door open further, staying in his place to her despair. Really, he must have thought he was being gentlemanly, but the closeness of the hallway had Castiel pale and lightly shaking before she reached Sam. 

"Who was that?" She secretly hoped that Sam would say that he would be gone soon, but the possibility was soon banished by Sam's angry words.

"Just my idiot brother." She looped an arm through her friend's, leading her up stairs and down to the last room on the right of the hall. "This is my sanctuary. Don't worry, he'll be in his room after dinner. He never joins on game night."

"Okay," but Castiel could hear that her voice was forced, earning a pitiful look from Sam. 

"You don't have to stay; I can take you home after dinner." She grabbed her friend's hands, ignoring the clammy insides. "I promise, I won't be upset."

"No, _I will_." She slipped off her Converses, leaving them next to Sam's favorite pair of boots. "If I leave, I'll be apologizing for months."

Sam smiled, pulling her close. "Only if you're positive."

Together, they met Mary in the kitchen. "Oh, you must be Sammy's friend. What do they feed people in Illinois?" Castiel looked down, suddenly conscious of her slim figure. 

"Just because you fatten us up like you're gonna stick us in the oven doesn't mean other people's parents do." Sam grabbed a bowl of green beans from next to the oven, setting them on the small table across the room.

"I wasn't aware I was the one shoveling food onto your plate, Samantha." She was still looking down at her small body when the loud, muscled boy was back in the same room and listening to the two's conversation. Castiel felt fear when she realized that he probably slept upstairs and looked only too capable of repeating the one thing she was sure she couldn't live through again. 

"Hey, remember what I said?" Sam was next to her again, pulling her thoughts away from the what-ifs and possibilities of the night. 

"Yeah." She was too happy to be away from Sam's brawny older brother.

Dinner was an interesting affair. John was almost as stoic as his son, only supplying short questions to the silences that only came when Mary was chewing or looking across at her thoughtfully, as if wondering if she should ask the question she'd been considering.

Castiel had sat across from an empty chair, Mary on his right side and Sam on his left. In truth, she was glad for the space between herself and the brawny boy she had come to know as Dean Winchester. Apparently, he went to Lawrence High as well, though he was a senior where they were juniors. Mary made wonderful chicken for dinner and she couldn't help but think that it was better than anything his mother had ever prepared.

Afterwards, Sam drug her to the living room, helping lay out the game on the coffee table when she jumped at the sound of that too-loud voice commanding a room. "Got enough for another player?"

"Why? Suddenly interested in Monopoly?" Sam sneered, not noticing the stiff, pale form her friend had become at the prospect of Dean staying throughout the game. 

"Maybe I just want to make sure I can still beat you," Dean retorted, crossing to sink on the other side of the coffee table. His knee touched Castiel's, prompting the quick snatch of muscles that caused both Winchesters to look at her funnily. 

"Sorry, I - I need to go to the bathroom." She stood, looking down to Sam for instructions.

"The room right before mine on the right side." She was out of the room, breathing deeply as she leaned against the wall outside. No, she didn't want to hear the conversation she did, but the Universe had this handy way of ruining Castiel's day as soon and well as it could.

"What's her problem?" His gruff voice was softer from her place outside, still causing a deep uneasy feeling in the bottom of her gut though they weren't even in the same room.

"She's _afraid_ of you, Dean. She's this tiny thing and you're all freaking muscle coming on to her like a monster truck on a toy car." Sam huffed, paper money making a light sound as it moved.

"W-Well, how was I supposed to know that?" He sounded angry, the uneasy feeling in the bottom of Castiel's stomach hardening at the sound. Angry loud boys were far worse than just loud boys.

"You should have seen it when she acted like you were about to pin her down and slide a hand down her pants at the door," the sound of skin against skin and a low curse followed the statement. "Not that way. God, just leave, Dean. You're just gonna make her not want to come back."

She pushed away from the wall, silently padding down the hall. She plastered herself to the wall when he passed, anger rolling from his skin on his way to the stairs. 

Mary was fairly good at Monopoly. The girls played without John, the older man leaning down to kiss Sam's crown before he retired to his bed early. Really, they had played three games and Sam had passed out as soon as she laid down in bed. If it weren't for the insistence of her bladder, Castiel would not out of the warm bed herself. Alas, she was dozing as she sat on the pot, yawning deeply when she finally stood, flipping the seat down. She scrubbed at her hands with the generic soap, flushing the toilet with one of her sock clad feet. 

To this very day, the habit has followed her. She flipped the bathroom light off before exiting into the hall, light blind. The wall of sinew surprises her into a high-pitched yelp.

A hand covers her mouth and that loud voice has lowered to a whisper. "Jesus, you trying to wake everyone up?" Really, it was irrational to start crying because he had covered her mouth and startled her in the hallway, but she could feel the indentions his fingers were making on her cheeks and the hand that had wrapped easily around her arm. She couldn't control them or the muffled babbling from bubbling over her lips. 

"Are you crying? Shit, no. Shhh. It's okay." The words broke open the last of her resistance to the tears, the wetness spilling onto her slightly exposed chest. "No, not that. Damn. I'm not gonna hurt you." Yeah, right. That's what he said, too. She folded her arms in to press against her chest, a light blinking on from behind Dean's form. 

"Dean?" Sam was confused, peeking out from her room with only one of her eyes open until she took in the scene. "Dean! What are you doing?!" Sam yanked her brother away from Castiel, the small girl's words falling out without the barrier of Dean's hand holding them in. 

"Not again, not again.." She shook her head, wiping at the constant stream of tears with the fabric covering Sam's shoulder.

"God, what were you thinking? Were you just gonna ambush her at three in the morning _in the bathroom_?" Sam held fast to her, head tucked against her shoulder as if to protect her from the sight of the muscled boy. 

"No, I had to pee. She was in there, so I waited." Truly, it made more sense than Castiel's overreaction, but she tucked her arms in closer, burrowing in the safe heat that was Sam. "She bumped into me on the way out and sounded like she stepped on a snake. I covered her mouth so she wouldn't wake anyone up and then, she starts crying like I told her Santa isn't real. Jesus, I just needed to take a piss." The rough sound of calloused hands in short hair, blunt nails scraping against scalp.

"I-" She pulled herself away from Sam, wiping at the still-running tears. "I- I'm- God, I ruined it. I'm so sorry, Sam. Me and my stupid issues, I'm so self-centered." She rounded the side of Sam that wouldn't bring her closer to Dean, backing into her room. "Just, ignore me. I'll get over it."

"No, Cas-"

"Really, Sam. It's okay. We should just go to bed." She pulled against Sam's wrist, ready to put the moment behind her. Thankfully, the taller girl relented and they curled together under the blankets again, but Castiel wouldn't admit the next morning that she never slept.

*********

Dean Winchester. She stood, staring at the note taped innocently over her locker until Sam was standing next to her.

"He's probably apologizing in the lamest way possible." Sam reached forward, but Castiel stopped her, staring at the lined paper.

"Why would he be apologizing?" She tilted her head, still not looking away from the note.

"For being a complete freak Friday night." Sam sounded as if this was the obvious answer, pulling her arm from the delicate hold.

"I think that's actually what I did." Castiel rocked forward, apology on the tip of her tongue at the thought of that night. She was so dramatic.

"If you say you're sorry again, I'm going to fold you up and stick you inside one of these lockers." Sam leaned against the wall of metal next to the note, eyeing it like she wanted to know what it said. Before her friend could suggest it, she reached for the note, pulling it off the locker easily .

_I'm sorry. Lunch?_

_-Dean_

Her mouth dried. "He wants you to sit with him and all those jocks?" She was typing furiously, but Castiel hadn't got the chance to ask what her friend was doing before she was scoffing, answering a text that had popped up while her phone screen was lit. "I thought I made it clear to him..." Se trailed off, eyes switching up to meet the blue orbs set deep in Castiel's face. 

"Made what clear?" For the first time since arriving in Lawrence, Kansas, she felt as if someone could see the secret she truly hadn't even said aloud more than once. She felt her friend's eyes searching hers, and couldn't help but remember those terrible five days.

The nice-seeming man telling her that she was pretty. She was small. Of course, she blushed and drank the soda he offered her, not asking why he opened them for her. The room slowly becoming fuzzy, but it wasn't like the movies. She didn't really fall asleep, just forgot what she'd been doing in the half-awareness. She was in a hallway next, presumably waiting for the bathroom because she had accidentally peed herself. She thought she must have gotten a contact high from the marijuana smoke of the packed room. The man was back, promising he wouldn't hurt her, just change her.

Then, it was dark and her shirt was gone. She didn't want this, but there were thick ropes of steel in her veins, holding her down and silencing her. She wasn't aware of what happened again until there was sun, peeking under curtains in the dark room. She whined, feeling the burn of where some had been the night before. She tried to break free, really, but the ties were tight and she couldn't scream for the cloth inside of her mouth.

He entered later that night, offering company for an hour before he flipped her over and shoved himself deep inside of her, tears streaking against her already-stained cheeks and wetting the pillow.

"Oh, are you crying for me?" He'd tasted the salty tears, groaning as another wave chased over her cheeks. When he finished, it stuck in her hair and pooled on her back. It was filthy. 

After enduring this a second time, she realized the best thing she could do was pretend to be doing something - anything - else. Mostly, she wondered if they would find her like this. Silently crying as he shoved himself deep into her, rambling about her to her all but comatose body. On the third night he was tired of her silence and had sunk his thumb into her ass, the intrusion causing her to jump back to life. She'd tried to squeeze out of the bathroom window later, but was caught and ended up sobbing as he tightened the restraints to the point of pain and created five-pointed scars over her exposed skin with a belt buckle.

"My favorite," he'd whispered as he held it for her to inspect.

If anyone looked, they could see the faint line of burn the twine had caused over those five days, but the stars were easier to keep hidden from prying eyes. That was the last night she spent in the room physically, but could remember in her mind the feeling of floating through a fantasy while she was awake. Sometimes, she had trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality, creating the thought that maybe she was still there and had just been driven crazy.

She squeezed her eyes closed, shaking the thoughts away. Sam still hadn't answered, her eyes burning as she read another text from - presumably - her brother. "Made _what_ clear?" Castiel pinned her friend with a desperate look. o be honest, she couldn't tell if she wanted Sam to guess it herself or if she wanted to keep it to herself for the rest of forever. 

After all, all women have to go through it once, according to her mother. It's better to just get over it and live anyway.

"You just have a problem with really big people." Sam stowed her phone, ignoring the chime that came less than a second later. "And if someone is too loud. Or, if they scare you." Sam grabbed a limp hand, smiling lightly. "But, it's okay. When you're ready to talk about it, you will."

Again, it was the first time Castiel did something since the incident. It was the first time she realized there was good in the world since evil had tainted her.

*********

The news was on, filling the room with noise on the lazy Sunday morning Castiel accompanied the Winchesters in their small living room (plus Charlie). She was learning to crochet, her stitches followed by the boy sitting at his feet. Really, getting close to Dean was easier after the first few months of visiting the small household on weekends. Dean sat with them at lunch and had found what Mary called his "formerly missing inside voice" for when she was around.

"Is there anything better than Nancy Grace on at eleven on a Sunday?" Charlie had thrown the remote between Castiel's and Sam's, her eyes trained on the ceiling as the older woman on screen described a horrible crime in her opinionated stance, pushing for maximum sentence. The commercials switched on whe John answered her desperate question.

"Nope." A herd of sheep began to sing "Somebody to Love," causing the older man to hum along off-beat and off-key, but happily. This was everything she was missing at home. The mix matched colors decorating the living room just adding to the homey atmosphere.

"At least the commercials are interesting." Charlie laughed as a man announced, wet and half-naked that " _No, this is just a really weird commercial for soap_."

Castiel focused intently on the yarn, wishing she could make the stitches as easily and quickly as Mary. But, she'd had years of practice and this was the teenager's third time trying to help make the squares she was going to make into a lap quilt. The commercials were over by the time she had finished the third stitch and was halfway through the fourth when her fingers stilled. She heard he own name sifting from the set. 

"...Castiel Novak incident several months ago, Alistair Dunkle is being released on parole from his sentence on kidnapping and raping the young teen this past summer. It is said that he will-"

"I'll kill him." The growl startled Castiel from her thoughts, her legs pushing into the bottom of the couch to protect themselves from Dean's livid gaze. Though, the fear was irrational, because his eyes were trained on the mug shot, just across the screen from a picture of herself before. She reached forward, pausing to look at herself.

It was like looking in a funhouse mirror. He eyes were narrow slits as she laughed, her lips parted in a bellow. She was bigger then, healthy instead of the lack of weight she carried around. The only thing that hadn't changed was her hair, hanging past her waist in languid waves. She ran her fingers through the locks, whispering the fact to herself. Really, she forgot where she was, just looking at the stranger with her face. "The only thing he didn't ruin..."

A strong hand touched her socks, the tentative contact the way Dean had learned to connect with the jumpy girl without startling her into tears. " _Nothing_ ," he was still growling, but Castiel held back her fear in favor as taking it as a sign he was desperate to protect her. "I mean, not a thing about you is ruined."

She reached out for Sam's hand, receiving Charlie's on the underside as well as her best friend's on top. Charlie was glaring at the screen as well, seeming to be contemplate ways she could legally castrate the one person on this Earth she ever turned an ill eye on. Castiel blinked, looking back up to the happy sixteen year old on the screen.

Perhaps the group of people around her would love that girl more. The one that could cuddle with Dean and laughed heartily at the jokes they told. Perhaps they would decide that they should have chosen someone easier to compliment or someone that wouldn't wake up gasping, clawing from a vicious nightmare that left her cold and afraid and begging. "Just please, hold me, Sam." It was a wonder the taller girl even considered Castiel her friend anymore after the night she had tried to scratch her eyes out.

Dean wrapped his own around the hand with the hook, ignoring the protruding metal. She stared at the contact, startled by her own reaction to it. He began to pull away, assuming her gaze was preceding a whispered, "Dean..." The word that contained too many sentences to be possible. The one word that made him withdraw his hand or take a step back or lower his voice. Instead, she gripped his wrist, pulling his hand to press the heat to her cheek as he'd done several times before. 

She blushed at the forwardness, but leaned into his touch as Charlie fast-forwarded through the report. "Nancy Grace is shit TV anyway."

*********

It's three months into the parole that Castiel actually went anywhere alone that wasn't necessary. She smiled at her phone, Dean's texts coming two at a time by now.

**_Dean:_ I'm worried.**

**_Dean:_ Really worried.**

**_Dean:_ Are you okay?**

**_Dean:_ I mean, I know you can take care of yourself.**

**_Dean:_ You're just so small. **

**_Dean:_ A toddler could overpower you.**

**_Dean:_ Please answer me before I go crazy.**

Castiel typed her response quickly, hopefully assuaging Dean's fears. 

**_You:_ ** **I can handle buying something from the drug store literally two minutes from your house.**

She laid the ibuprofen on the counter, taking out a five to pay for the small container of pills. She was halfway back to the house before she checked the messages raining down in her back pocket.

**_Dean:_ You're at Carson's?**

**_Dean:_ I didn't think about going to the drugstore. **

**_Dean:_ I could walk up there.**

**_Dean:_ That's it, I'm coming to meet you.**

Castiel tapped out her reply, shoving the box of pills into the back pocket of her jeans as she did. She was less than a minute's walk from the almost barren house.

 

**_You:_ I swear to God, if you're out of bed when I get inside, I'll return the medicine.**

There was no reply before she was closing the door, a thump showing Dean was - again - trying to get out of bed. She locked the door up again, stripping her shoes in front of it. Mary and John had taken a cruise for the week of Spring Break and Sam was keeping Gabriel company. She climbed the stairs quickly, surveying her boyfriend, lying on the messy floor.

"You're stupid." She sat next to his face, feeling the heat of his forehead. "You know I can't get you off the floor."

"Shhhh, babe." He buried his head into her lap, hot breath finding it's way between her legs. "Don't talk." He was breathing out again when Castiel felt it, the racing of her heart to accommodate the arousal building in her chest. 

It was new to her to feel this way, to want Dean to touch her and taste her and look at her hungrily. Just like he was right now from her lap. "I thought you had a headache." The words were out of her mouth before she really thought about them, the driving force behind Dean's actions. He sat up, staring with those forest green eyes into her own, the trees meeting the sea tumultuously. 

A soft pressure against her lips, really not a kiss, but she sighed at the brush of his lightly chapped lips. Again, he pressed against her lips lightly, staring into the deep expanse of blue laid out before him. His hands rested on her hips, pulling slowly until she was sitting on his lap with his hands behind her back. It was always this, gentle prods and soft touches meant to ask her to move one way or another. She pulled back from where their noses were brushing in place of a kissing, hands moving to grasp at the bottom of her t-shirt. 

Another always, he always waited for her to begin things. He would kiss her for hours, kiss her until she forgot her own name, but would not even mention the rock inside of his pants until she took the next step. His eyes darkened, but the fabric coming over her head covered the arousal. Castiel felt him pull her up, lying her back on the soft mattress that smelled too much like him to be legal. 

"My girl," His lips traveled downward from the base of her bra, kisses peppering over the skin. The shirt, stuck over her head, kept her from watching Dean worship her abused skin. He held her hips lightly, those hands wrapped around her presented frame. "My gorgeous girl." He kissed her hipbones, sucking the soft skin there into his hot mouth for just a moment. Not enough to leave marks, just enough to let her know he was there.

"Dean..." She struggled to remove the shirt, the fabric trapped behind her back refusing her attempts. "I can't-"

"Shhh." He was pulling her back up with one hand, tugging the shirt off to reveal a smile. "Easy, see?" She nodded, tucking her fingers in to feel the warm, tan skin under his shirt. He pulled it off, the heat scaring away any chill that might have been trying to find her stained skin. She rested her hands subconsciously over the exposure, looking up to the emotions in Dean's eyes. When she'd first thought of undressing in front of her boyfriend, she had been scared he might not take the moment as seriously as he should. The smile he'd given her when she relinquished her body was the joy of feeling her trust rain over him.

She could feel him pour his love into every touch, every feather-light brush of lips and slow grind of hips. Though he looked at her the same exact way he always did, minus the pupils blown wide and breathing trying desperately to slow to an acceptable pace, Castiel could taste the undercurrent of Dean's enjoying - living for, even - these moments where she laid bare before him, trusting him not to hurt her or make her feel uncomfortable. 

The first time, Dean hadn't even really had sex with her. He had slowly worked her with his fingers, his lips, his tongue until she was gasping and crying, unsure if she wanted him to stop or keep going. He had tried to do the same the next time, but she had muttered something about needing him inside of her and watched Dean battle with the two sides of himself. The animal inside that told him to _move faster_ and the logical side halting his actions, breath coming out in pants.

Truly, she'd felt bad for constricting him, but had grin when his easy, "Best sex of my life, baby," stopped her apology. He still had trouble sometimes, losing himself for a moment before he pulled back on his reins.

She pecked his lips, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of those lips on hers. She could have Dean kiss her until she died and find every vitamin necessary in those lips. The push and pull of his lips echoed the thumping of blood in her chest. As if the kiss was her source of life, the sole reason her heart beating. 

Castiel could feel the press of fingers there, testing her entrance tenderly before he sank into it slowly. He thrusted in time with the kiss, his hips traveling to meet hers as if they had all the time in the world to do this. Like they could do nothing but this for the rest of his life and he would never be discontent. 

Her thighs were quaking, muscles shivering under the threat of her orgasm when Dean pulled back from the searing, passionate kiss. He looked between them, watching himself sink inside and the slight bulging in her stomach when he was fully sheathed inside. He stamped a finger over her clit, rubbing once before she was falling over the other side of the orgasm with a gasp, back arching at the sensation. She could feel herself being moved, hear the condom dropping into the wastebasket, but her eyes were lazily closed.

She slid close to Dean's naked body, sapping his warmth and the quiet hum of his voice singing her to sleep while rubbing circles into her shoulder. Hey Jude will always be her favorite song.

 


End file.
